The Gamble
by asphodelgold
Summary: Due to a ridiculous bet with Santana and Brittany, Quinn must seduce Mike Chang, the only football player that she has not kissed.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Glee writers and producers own everything.  
**Author's Note:** It has been a really long time since I have written any sort of fanfiction, but I can't get over Quinn and Mike's beauty. I have been told that their ship name is "Fabang", so I hope you enjoy this "Fabang" fic! :)

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**{ Chapter 1 }**

"Mike Chang."

Quinn, Santana and Brittany were sitting on Brittany's bed, talking about the football players that they hooked up with during the past school year. The list was exhaustive and they soon realized it was easier to pick out the boys they had not kissed. Not surprisingly, this list was much shorter. They narrowed the list down to two untouched football players, including Mike Chang. Quinn was familiar with the devious smiles on their faces, so she decided to play along.

"What about Mike Chang?" Quinn asked, playing with the edges of Brittany's pillowcase.

Santana raised her eyebrows at her before responding, "Have you slept with him?"

"Oh god, no!" Quinn's response sounded defensive, but she had nothing against Number 22. She never paid too much attention to him on the field, but she assumed that he wasn't terrible since he never screwed up the game. He was relatively tall and kind of cute if you were into that dopey, adorable type. His smile was kind of crooked, but that could easily be seen as endearing instead of stupid. In Glee Club, he obviously had the best dance moves. Like everyone else in the club, Quinn admired his ability to move his body. Although he did not look as burly as Finn or Puck, she could not forget the rumor flying around school that he had Apollo's abs.

"Made out?" Santana puckered her lips at Quinn and rolled over onto her back.

Quinn shook her head in disbelief at her pushy friend, "Never."

Santana glanced quickly at Brittany before asking once more, "Just a peck?"

"Nope," Quinn shrugged. Even at every party that the football team and Cheerios had, she was never paired with Mike. The bottle never pointed to him. They never ended up in the closet to explore for seven minutes. No drinking game ever brought them together.

Brittany hugged her pillow tightly and interjected, "I heard that if you kiss Mike Chang, you are initiated into a secret ninja gang."

Santana laughed and affectionately patted her arm before turning her attention back to Quinn. She shook her head disapprovingly and asked, "How can you even call yourself Head Cheerleader?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and responded, "He's just a nice guy. It's never crossed my mind."

"Well, I dare you to fuck him," Santana stated smugly. She was smirking, but Quinn knew that she was serious. Santana loved playing matchmaker for both relationships and hook ups.

"And what do I get out of this?" Quinn asked, unsure if the benefits outweighed the costs. She slept with the dancing football player and got what? The official title of 'Head Slut' in school? Nevertheless, she was never one to back down from a challenge. There was a reason why she was at the top of the high school food chain after all.

"His virginity?" Brittany offered, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe he'll follow you around like a puppy afterward and he can be like, your own slave and personal belly dancer."

As appealing as it was to have someone bring her coffee and to dance at her command, Quinn did not think that was enough of an incentive to sleep with a guy. In fact, if she were being honest, it took a lot more for her to sleep with someone. Contrary to popular belief at McKinley, she was not easy. It was just that her reputation changed as more football players tried to steal her kisses while she was tipsy. Rumors of guys getting "lucky" with Quinn Fabray were more memorable than the reality of her refusing to sleep with them. She was no saint, though. She found nothing wrong with sliding past any of the other bases. In fact, like most girls, including Santana, she had no problem with tainting a poor, innocent boy. Yet Quinn found herself resisting the thought when it came to Mike.

Brittany seemed to read her thoughts because she asked, "What if you just make out with him? Then you can kiss me and Santana and we can all be secret ninjas with Mike."

Santana scoffed, "Oh, that is too easy for Quinn."

"But Santana," Brittany pouted. "I've always wanted to be a ninja."

Santana succumbed to the idea, "Fine… If you make out with the Ballerina, I'll sing whatever song you want me to at Glee Club. If you fail, you can sing a song of our choice," Santana said and winked.

"And a banana split," Brittany added cheerfully. "With an extra cherry."

Quinn laughed at the stakes and nodded in agreement. Sue would hate it if either of them ate a banana split before their competition. Every pound mattered when it came to cheerleading. On top of this, they could possibly embarrass themselves in front of Mr. Schue. She knew that Santana would not be forgiving when choosing one for her to sing in front of the Glee Club. The last time she made a similar bet with someone, Puck had to sing "Take You Down" to poor, blushing Tina. Despite the slight fear of embarrassment, she also knew that she had this wager in the bag. Santana should know better - Nice guys were her specialty. When she first started dating Finn, he used to be one of those "nice guys" who was even too afraid to hold her hand. After she was done with him, it wasn't long until he couldn't stop inviting her into the back seat of his car.

Santana's lips curled and she rolled back onto her stomach to face Quinn. The smile on Santana's face was one of victory. Quinn knew that it wouldn't be long until she wore that same smug look.

"So it's settled," Santana said decisively. "You'll seduce the dancing panda."

{The Next Day}

Mike walked through the hallways of McKinley with his earphones in, listening to _Lights_ by Ellie Goulding. As he made his way through the crowd of drug addicts and headed towards his locker, he envisioned a free-spirited contemporary dance between a guy and a girl. He imagined a combination of swift, fluid, but contracted movements. He anticipated the chorus of the song and channeled the urge to start dancing into his fingers. He tapped his fingers on his binder to the beat of the song and slid dramatically toward his locker. He opened it and started putting his books away quickly so he could jog to the cafeteria and beat the line for the tater tots.

_You show the lights that stop me turn to sto—_

His music stopped suddenly. Slightly taken aback, Mike looked down to find a cheerleader holding his earphones and smiling sweetly. One look into her hazel eyes and his heart rate immediately skyrocketed. It wasn't just any ordinary cheerleader that ruined his dance vision, but rather Quinn Fabray. Mike was somewhat confused since Quinn never talked to him unless she was tipsy off a couple bottles of Smirnoff Apple Ice at one of Puck's house parties. That fact usually didn't bother him since he knew that she was sort of marked as the Quarterback's girl. After a couple seconds, he realized that she was just looking at him, awaiting his response.

"Uh, hey, Quinn… Um, what's… up?"

He sounded like he was asked to recite the periodic table in five seconds, starting with the highest atomic number. To his surprise, she did not seem affected by his inability to speak coherently like a normal human being. Instead, she twirled his earphones around her finger and tilted her head to the side with that same intriguing smile on her face. He could count on his hand the number of times they had spoken in the past, so he couldn't help but feel a bit enthralled.

"I heard that you are the man to go to if I need help in biology," she said, placing one hand on her hip. "Is this true?"

"Oh yeah? I have been helping some of the football players keep their C average. So I guess you can call me Bioman! Saving innocent bystanders from the evil Miss Floyd!" Mike said excitedly. He felt stupid mid-sentence, but for some reason, he couldn't stop talking. "Why? You need help before our midterm?"

He wanted to hit his head against his locker when he saw the smirk on her face, which was undoubtedly from his ridiculous superhero talk. Luckily, she simply answered, "Yeah, I need to get a solid B in order to be allowed on the squad for this year's competition. Think you help me out?"

"Of course," Mike agreed and closed his locker. He started walking towards the cafeteria, but she seemed to be heading the opposite direction. He mentally cursed himself for going the wrong direction, but continue walking backwards.

"Meet me after school by the fire hydrant, Bioman," Quinn said, lowering her voice as she used his self-proclaimed superhero name and spun around to leave.

Mike nervously rubbed the back of his neck, trying to refrain from watching her skirt move in time with her hips. A couple seconds passed before he answered belatedly, "… Okay, see you then!"

He turned around and put his earphones back in as he walked in the direction of the cafeteria. Part of him was upset that he would now be the last person in line at lunch, which meant his tater tots would definitely be the soggiest. He was about to slouch over at his new realization until another thought hit him. The most gorgeous girl in school just asked him to be her tutor for his easiest subject. He was simultaneously shocked, excited and deeply embarrassed because of his new superhero alias. Mike also felt confused and wondered why she chose him, but the inquiry quickly evaporated when he walked through the cafeteria doors.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters in this story.

**Author's Note: **As someone pointed out, this is sort of an AU story. Quinn has not been pregnant and they are both in New Directions and cheerleading/football. They can drive, so we'll just say that they are seniors in this story. I hope this doesn't bother you too much. This chapter is from Quinn's POV, so expect next week to be from Mike's! Enjoy~

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**{ Chapter 2 }**

After the last school bell rang, Quinn went straight to the bathroom to make sure that everything was perfect for this afternoon. She knew that it would be easy to convince Mike to help her with schoolwork, but now she had to execute her game plan. Her eyelashes were curled again, her blush was reapplied, and her lips were tainted with pink lipgloss. She pursed her lips together and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Quinn was sure that he would be hers.

When she walked out of the school, she shaded her eyes with her hand to look out to the fire hydrant. Mike was standing by it, tapping his foot. For a moment, she felt appalled that he looked impatient with her. But just as she began to stomp towards him, she realized that he was only listening to his music again. Her anger stifled and was replaced by amusement. She wondered if he always had music and dancing on his mind.

Despite her curiosity, she saved her question for later and tapped his arm. He briefly looked shocked and then took out his earphones.

"Hey, wanna get going?" he asked, wrapping the wire around his mp3 player. The initial confidence in his voice struck her by surprise. However, he quickly added, "I mean, unless… you want to walk and exercise your. Cheerleading. Legs."

She smirked, feeling at ease due to his tactlessness, and responded, "No, you can drive."

Mike nodded and motioned with his hand to follow him to his car. To her surprise, he opened the car door for her and quickly jogged to the driver's side. It was a simple gesture, but it was one that was severely outdated.

"Why did you do that?" she asked as she grabbed her seatbelt.

He shrugged as his seatbelt clicked and said, "My dad always makes me open the door for my mom and my grandma. If I don't, let's just say I get in huge trouble. Huge…. So, you know, it's just a habit."

Quinn nodded, not wanting to press any further. The tone in his voice seemed to change slightly before he tacked on his last sentence. She adjusted her posture in his car and looked around his car. Aside from the typical McDonald's bag on the floor, his car was clean. A yellow, pineapple-shaped freshener sat on top of a huge pile of uncovered CDs. The CD at the top had 'Get On the Floor Mix 4' scribbled in his messy handwriting. He also had the most adorable panda sitting on his dashboard, which was both adorable and oddly expected.

"And now you're going to say, 'Mike, you're so Asian for having a panda in your car,'" he said and she realized that she may have been staring at the panda longer than she realized.

"No, it's cute," she said, unable to tell why she felt embarrassed.

"It was a present from my niece," Mike said and she realized that he was smiling as he mentioned his niece. It was endearing. Almost too endearing for her liking.

"Go to Emma's," she instructed. Quinn quickly realized that commanding Mike would probably negatively affect her cause, so she added, "Please…"

"Got it," he said and switched gears quickly to make the right turn into the parking lot. She probably should have told him earlier, but she made no apology.

After Mike parked the car, she quickly got out of the car and smoothed the front of her skirt before walking to the café. Mike walked to the counter to order a drink, while she sat down at a table by the window. She would have about an hour to make him feel like she was into him before they left the coffee shop. An hour was plenty of time.

She looked up and saw that Mike was coming over with a goofy smile on his face. He swung his backpack off and sat across from her. After taking out his biology book, his attention was back on her.

"So uh, let's start… Which section is confusing?" he asked, his fingers tapping quickly on the cover. She couldn't tell if he was doing it because of his need to always move or because he was nervous. Quinn hoped that she was the one causing his anxiety.

"The genetics section," she said, taking note that his right arm was still on the table.

As she expected, he turned to chapter 6 and started rambling, "Yeah, it can be pretty confusing. But, you know, once you think about it logically, it'll make sense…"

Mike didn't know that Quinn already had a B+ in Biology, so she easily tuned him out and began implementing her plan. It was not called the "Art of Seduction" because it was easy. Seduction requires skill and Quinn Fabray was highly adept. She knew how to ease her prey into her trap with a foundation of temperate touches, light laughter and exquisite eye contact.

"So each gene has a homologous adaptation on a similar chromosome, which is called an allele," he said, using his hands to clumsily gesture the similarity between these genes before putting his arm back on the table.

Quinn smiled to feign surprise and raised her eyebrows to express her "new understanding" of genetics. She was glad that he left his arm on the table because she decided to make her first move. All she needed to do was to place her arm near his so that they were barely touching. She carefully moved her arm before briefly noting his forearm. Quinn did not notice until then that he rolled up his sleeves. She quickly suppressed her brief admiration and touched his arm gently. He noticed the physical contact and stopped talking. He glanced at her hand and was about to say something before the lady at the counter yelled out his name. Mike got up quickly and walked back to the counter. Quinn cursed at the barista under her breath before he came back with two drinks.

"Here," he said, his voice slightly wavering. "I bought this for you. Uh, hope you like caramel."

"Thanks, Mike," she smiled sweetly, licking her lips before taking a sip of her iced caramel macchiato.

She was pleased that his eyes were temporarily lowered at her mouth before he quickly said, "Okay, where were we?"

"You were talking about alleles," she confirmed and decided to make a typical move. If it wouldn't work with their hands, then she could always try it with the lower parts of their bodies. As he began talking again about the function of alleles, she took her left leg and tried to gently rub it against his leg. Unfortunately, she misjudged their distance and accidentally kicked his foot.

"Oh, fuck!" Mike cried. He tried to cover it up with a pained smile, but it was obvious that she had done some sort of damage.

Her eyes widened as she asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said, breathing in sharply. "I sort of sprained my ankle during P.E."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she questioned, experiencing one of those rare moments where she actually felt guilty for something.

He laughed and tried to relax back into his chair, but he still looked tense. After a couple seconds, he responded, "No offense, Quinn, but no guy would ever make themselves look weak in front of you."

"Oh," she said quietly, not knowing how to respond.

"It's fine. Let's, uh, let's just get back to work," Mike said and continued. "So we have dominant and recessive alleles. The dominant alleles show up in our own physical traits. Well, sometimes the recessive alleles show up if they are paired with the same recessive allele. For example, normal vision is a dominant trait, but color blindness is a recessive trait. So, if two people with normal vision get together and have a baby, what would their eyesight would be normal. If one person had normal vision and the other person was color blind, what would the baby be like?"

Quinn thought for a second before she answered, "Probably normal."

"Great!" he exclaimed. "What if they were both color blind?"

"Then, the baby would be color blind?"

"Sort of, yeah," he said before adding. "It's just a higher percentage that the baby would be color blind. So this is the same with all physical traits – hair color, eye color, number of fingers…"

Quinn nodded as he went through the list and suddenly realized the easiest way to get him riled up. She cleared her throat and bit her bottom lip gently to look a little confused. He seemed to notice so he slowed down to a stop. Seizing the opportunity, she asked him, "And what about us?"

"What about us?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She leaned in a little closer to him and almost whispered, "What if we got together and had a baby. What would our baby look like?"

Mike choked on his iced Americano and swallowed hard before coughing for a second. His reaction made her want to laugh, but she knew that would blow her cover. So instead, she did the complete opposite. She put her hand on his knee, sliding it up slowly as she leaned in once more.

"Don't tell me you've never thought of it," she said and felt her lips form an inviting smile.

He blinked and looked at her for a couple seconds before he placed a hand on hers to prevent it from going any higher. Quinn knew that she already implanted the thought of them getting it on. It would be any second that he should ask her if she wanted to study at his house and learn biology with a hands-on approach.

"Well, they um," Mike said slowly and scrunched his eyebrows together. "They would uh… well, they'd have a higher chance of having my brown eyes and dark hair. You know, since your blonde hair and hazel eyes are recessive traits. And... Well, uh, mine are dominant."

He ended his statement by hastily took a sip of his drink and staring out the window for a couple seconds. She was floored. Any other guy on the football team would have understood her words as a definite pass. Mike was supposed to project his own attraction onto her actions, which would have made her whispers unbearably enticing. He was supposed to focus on the fact that she was implying the idea of them having sex, not literally talk about the color of their future children's hair. She leaned back into her chair and refrained from sighing as he moved on to talk about the Punnett square. Quinn decided to take a break from trying to hit on him and actually used the time to study. For some strange reason, she actually enjoyed studying with him.

When Mike drove her home, she was still stunned that her advances were unsuccessful. She failed at reigning in such an easy target, but she was Quinn Fabray. If she was honest, she did not even care much about the stakes of this ridiculous bet. Yet failure had never been and never will be part of her existence. She couldn't let Brittany and Santana win this round.

When he stopped in front of her house, she unbuckled her seatbelt and placed her hand on top of the hand he had on the gear shift.

"I'm sorry for kicking your ankle," she said, smiling with her lips still pressed. Although she hated apologizing, she did actually feel bad for hurting him. She moved her thumb gently against the back of his hand as she continued. "Think you can forgive me?"

"… Yeah, uh, of course," Mike said and accompanied his response with a nervous laugh.

This time, her maneuver seemed to take an immediate effect because his ears were now a tinge of red. His reaction satisfied her, so she squeezed his hand tenderly and let herself out of his car.

"Thanks, Bioman... I'll see you around," Quinn said and closed the door before he could respond.

As she walked to her front door, his engine still roared in the same place. She looked over her shoulder and waved goodbye with her keys in her hand. She couldn't help but smile when he drove off. Quinn thought it was sweet that he watched her get to her porch. She also felt a sense of accomplishment. Although it wasn't as far as she was expecting to get, she knew that she had him hooked.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** As usual, I do not own anything that is Glee-related. The song "Do You Wanna Dance" by Mya is from _Dirty Dancing Havana Nights_.  
**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone for the follows/lovely reviews! I'm so glad that there are other Mike/Quinn fans out there. They're just too beautiful to be ignored, right? :) Anyway, hope you enjoy this new chapter~

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**{ Chapter Three }**

Three days had passed since Mike took Quinn to Emma's to study for biology. Since then, she asked him a couple questions after class, but she didn't ask him to tutor her again. He wished that it didn't bother him so much. But if he was honest, he couldn't get their study date at the coffee shop out of his head. He decided to get his mind off of her by dancing in the auditorium. The auditorium was usually empty on Fridays after school unless Mr. Schue decided to overwork them before a competition.

When Mike entered the auditorium, he dropped his backpack off behind the stage and set up his mp3 player with the speakers on the piano. He put the songs on shuffle and decided to dance to any song that came up. It would force him to concentrate on the music.

Once the song started, he began moving his right heel to the beat before letting the music slowly fill his entire body. He took a deep breath and channeled the emotion of the song into his movements. His upper body shifted between sharp and fluid progressions. Mike closed his eyes and let his body glide, using the entire space around him.

When Mike danced, he focused solely on the music and his body. He interpreted the lyrics with his dancing, matched the intensity of his motions with the bass and included intricate movements to match the melody of the song. With every sound of percussion from the song, his body pulsed. When he danced, he was usually able to clear his mind from any stress he was experiences. Yet, for some reason, he was unable to completely free his mind.

A pair of hazel eyes invaded his thoughts. For a moment, they were piercing and made him feel uncomfortable.

_And what about us?_

He heard Quinn's low, unfaltering voice in his head and he missed a step.

_Don't tell me you've never thought of it…_

He would be lying if he said he never envisioned the two of them together. As nice as he was, he was still a guy. In fact, he had thought of Quinn on more than one occasion. Mike could still feel the way her hand fit in his when he stopped her. That situation alone was ridiculous to him. He had stopped her hand from gliding up his thigh. Quinn Fabray. The thought of her wanting him made his mind numb. Mike had no idea why he was entertaining the idea. It was beyond far-fetched. It was impossible.

Mike tried to move his thoughts away from her and decided to shift his emotions into his choreography. His motions became harsher and more intricate. He was finally able to concentrate, but once the song softened, an image formed of her smile at the end of the night when she was on her porch. That smile always left Mike's stomach fluttering, his heart pounding and his head spinning.

The music came to an end, so Mike opened his eyes and stared out onto the empty seats, breathing heavily. It was then that he heard someone clear their throat from the side of the stage. He turned suddenly and saw Quinn standing by the curtains. She was wearing one of those dresses that Mike always thought of as "pretty and flowery" because he did not know how else to describe them. The most accurate way he could describe her, was that she looked like she walked out of a movie. Her hair was not in her Cheerios ponytail, but rather perfectly flowed past her shoulders, framing her face.

Quinn walked over to him, smiling so big that he thought he would faint. Her claps echoed in the auditorium with every step she took toward him.

"You are really talented, Mike," she finally said, breaking the silence.

He reached over and took a sip from his water bottle, still breathing heavily. Unsure how to respond, he briefly said, "Thanks…."

"What were you practicing? I don't remember learning a dance to that song," she asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

He chuckled and admitted, "I just dance here sometimes so that I don't freeze up during competitions. I, uh. I get major stage fright."

"No way," she said, lightly hitting his arm. "But you have no reason to be nervous!"

"It still happens," he said, trying not to feel so frivolous at the slight contact. "Don't you have cheerleading practice or something? It's Friday…"

"Yes," she confessed. "But I need help with the choreography for the salsa segment. I can't get the stupid timing down."

Mike laughed, noticing how adorable she was when she pouted. He nodded his head and began to gather his things, "Got it. Well… Then, I'll be out of your way."

"Wait," she called out with her hands on her hips. "You're going to let me salsa dance?"

"Yeah?" he responded an shrugged his shoulders. He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable since he personally hated practicing in front of people.

"Alone," she added and raised an eyebrow. "You are going to make me practice the salsa sequence. Alone."

It suddenly dawned on him what she was trying to say. She wanted him to dance with her. It was an understatement to say that dancing was his passion. Dancing was his everything. Whenever he danced with another person, he couldn't help but feel like he was sharing a special part of him. The idea of dancing with Quinn Fabray made his feet feel like they weighed 10 tons.

"No, uh," he said slowly, praying that he was making the correct assumption. "I'll help you out. If you want. I mean, unless you want to dance alone, then I can leave. But dancing the salsa is probably better to practice with someone since you won't be performing alone and, I mean, I could help you since I made the choreography, unless that's not what you meant then I could leave..."

He was a blubbering idiot. He blamed the way the corner of her eyes wrinkled when she was genuinely smiling. Not the scary, Queen Bee smile that she usually used in the hallways to intimidate other people, but a real smile that exhibited her amusement. Quinn was laughing, but not in a spiteful way. She turned her back to him and walked to his mp3 player to turn on the music.

"Wait," Mike said, using all of his willpower to move his legs. "Let's practice without music first, since you're having problems with the timing."

Quinn spun around and nodded, walking towards him, "Okay, you're the expert."

The compliment made his ears burn. Mike stood beside her so that they were both facing the empty seats of the auditorium.

"This is a partner dance," she protested. "Aren't you supposed to be in front of me?"

"Yes," he said before he shimmied his chest at her and flipped non-existent hair over his shoulder. "But I'm going to show you how to be the girl!"

Quinn's laughter echoed through the stage as she hit his shoulder, "You would be such an ugly girl."

"Ow!" he yelled, pretending to be hurt by both verbal and physical attacks. "Okay, okay. Let's see. The salsa uses 8 counts. Picture three spots to step: back, middle, front. So you're going to step back on your right foot on one, step to the middle on your left foot on two, and bring your right foot to the middle on three. Good, that's great! Then on four, we pause. So practice that for me."

Quinn took her three steps slowly and paused on the fourth count. She looked up at him and asked, "Like that?"

"Exactly! So the next four steps are really similar, but now we're going forward. So step to the front with your left foot on five, step in the middle with your right foot on six, and bring your left foot back to the middle on seven," he said, moving his feet to show her.

"And on eight we pause?" she asked with an expectant smile.

"Yeah!" he said excitedly. "Now… you just have to make your steps..."

She tilted her head and asked, "Make my steps… what?"

Mike coughed to clear his throat and rubbed the side of his neck behind his ear before responding, "Well. You have to make it more… sexy."

"Sexy," she echoed and nodded assuredly. "Okay, show me."

"… How to be sexy?" he asked, gulping. He hardly thought she needed instructions for that.

"Like this?" she asked, taking normal steps back and forth. He had no idea if she was serious or joking. She was the sexiest girl on campus and what she was doing was not doing that title any justice.

He shook his head and stood in front of her, "Bend your knees so that you exaggerate the movement of—"

Mike stopped suddenly because she grabbed his hands, put them on her hips and commanded, "Here. Now, show me."

"Well, you, uh," he stammered, his mind trying desperately to grab onto any word that existed in the English language. Instead he just used his arms to move her hips in what seemed to be a figure eight. After the first movement, she started the 8-count step on her own, moving her hips the way he showed her.

"So, like this?" she asked, looking into his eyes expectantly. "Is this sexy enough?"

"Y-yes," he said, unsure if he was supposed to watch her hips or look into her eyes, so he looked to the side for a second. He felt like the stage curtains were closing on him, so he added, "Okay, just practice these 8 counts for a couple minutes. I need to do something."

Quinn nodded her head and began counting on her own, "One, two, three, pause, five, six, seven, pause… One, two…"

Mike watched her for the first set and then went backstage to find his phone. He had two reasons for going backstage. First, he needed to catch his breath after that encounter with Quinn. Second, he needed to tell his mom that where he was. Mike took his phone out of the front pocket of his backpack and started walking back slowly. He sent his mom a short text that simply said, "Still practicing. Showing a friend one of the dances. Be home for dinner. :) " He put his phone next to the speakers and turned on the music.

"You seem like you've got the hang of it," he commented and stood in front of her. He started to mirror her steps and put his hands out, palms facing up.

She put her hands gently in his and grinned, "Thanks! But I don't remember it looking this simple when you and Britt performed it for us last week."

"It wasn't… but you'll get it soon," he said and began picking up the pace to match the tempo of the song. "So on five, you're going to pivot and spin. You'll finish your spin on 'seven' and pause in the center again at 'eight.'"

"That sounds complicated," she said and Mike noted how strange it was to hear her sound unsure about something.

"Let's try… One, two, three, and spin! Six! Sev—spin all the way!" He called out and couldn't help but laugh when she was facing the wrong way.

"That's not funny!" Quinn yelled, shoving his chest.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he apologized. He really wasn't sorry. It was nice to be reminded that Quinn Fabray made mistakes like everyone else. "Let's try again, but this time spin faster."

This time was a success. Mike practiced this move with her several times before he challenge her to learn a more complicated move. It required her to spin 2.5 times as fast so that she purposely faced away from him. Thankfully, she channeled her Cheerios skills into her spins and was able to spin incredibly fast without making herself too dizzy. They worked on other spins and salsa moves for almost twenty minutes. By the time the last song on the playlist ended, they had started to sweat and were out of breath.

"Great job, Quinn. You're a fast learner," Mike said, walking over to his water bottle to rehydrate. "Need some water?"

"Yeah, thanks," she said, catching it smoothly when he threw it to her. "But let's be honest. It's all because of my amazing teacher."

The compliment made Mike so nervous that he let out a short laugh. He knew that he would have to go home soon, so he decided to choose one last song. He walked over to the mp3 player and scrolled through until he found the song for the performance. Santana and Tina were going to sing _Do You Wanna Dance_ by Mya while the rest of the group simultaneously harmonized and danced in the back.

_Funny thing is when I look into your eyes,  
I sense something so sincere in your disguise.  
You whisper secrets I hear only in my dreams,  
Then I wake up to your tele-smoke screen._

He put his hands out in front of Quinn and she accepted by following his lead. He started with the basic steps, letting her feel comfortable with the music. She was looking up and mouthing the counts for every step that they took. By the time the song ended the first chorus, he felt her steps become more confident. He decided to lead her into the routine by paving the way for a crossover.

_You put your lips very closely to my face,  
And then you run away and so begins the chase.  
I'll be the hunter, but boy, you better pray,  
'Cause when I want ya, I'll get you anyway._

He was impressed when she completed the first set of spins and crossovers with ease. Whenever she completed a move, she smiled widely at him and squeezed his hands. Her happiness over each accomplished dance move made him feel lucky. If she had asked anyone else to help her with these moves, they wouldn't be dancing here alone. He couldn't help but notice that her hands felt perfect in his and she followed his every move.

_Stop, you're surrounded.  
I got my love all around ya.  
One wrong move and I'll down ya.  
And that'll end ya.  
You should surrender.  
You'll never win,  
Unless you give in.  
So, won't you give our love a chance?  
Or do you only wanna dance?_

When he worked on the choreography with Brittany, he didn't remember it feeling this intimate. As with every song, his body unconsciously translated the lyrics into movements. The sensuality of the song made their steps lower and their hips mirrored each other. Every time Quinn twirled, her hair followed and her dress flared upward. Whenever she faced him again, their eyes locked. In his peripheral vision, Mike noticed that her cheeks were flushed. Although he knew that it was from their dance, part of him hoped that it was because of him. The last chorus began playing, so he knew that the finale of the choreography was coming up.

_Stop, you're surrounded.  
I got my love all around ya.  
One wrong move and I'll down ya.  
And that'll end ya.  
You should surrender.  
You'll never win,  
Unless you give in._

Mike led Quinn into the double spin, stopping her to face the edge of the stage. For the next four counts he brought her back flushed against him. Their bodies fit like a mold and they dipped their hips together towards the floor. In a heartbeat, he swiftly spun her to face him into a sharp stop.

_So, won't you give our love a chance?_

Their faces were only mere inches away from one another by the end of the song. The nature of the fierce turn led to Quinn putting her hand on his chest to keep herself steady. Mike was also afraid of her losing her balance so he caught her waist with his left arm. Their shallow breaths filled the silence on the stage. They both stared at each other, looking unsure of what move to make, but neither moved away. Mike couldn't help but let his eyes flicker down to her parted lips. He knew that he wanted to kiss Quinn right then and there, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. His mind went back and forth between a million options before the hand she had on his chest grabbed his shirt and tugged softly in her direction. He gulped, realizing that she wanted him to kiss her. His heart beat rapidly as he closed his eyes and slowly leaned in…

_"Go go power rangers!"_

An electric guitar riff began playing loudly and Mike froze in place. He could feel her breath on his lips, but he knew the opportunity had disintegrated the second his phone rang. He opened his eyes and saw Quinn raise her eyebrows at him. He wanted to crawl off the stage and hide in the aisles for the rest of the semester. His ringtone was still echoing loudly, so he took a step back, letting his arms fall to his side.

"You should probably get that," Quinn finally said, shrugging her shoulders.

Mike knew she was right and jogged over to his phone. He picked it up without checking the caller ID, "Hello?"

His heart sunk when he realized that it was his father. He was barely listening to what was being said because it was the same conversation that they always had. His father always lectured him. No matter what he did, there was always a problem. This time his father chose to demand that Mike come home this instant and finish studying so that he could help his mother prepare dinner. After protesting for a couple seconds, Mike finally gave in and hung up angrily.

"Ugh, shit," he sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," she said as she walked over. "You don't have to tell me about crazy dads."

"So you've got one too," he said, not really wanting to talk about the topic. What he really wanted to do was get back into whatever it was that they were in before his Power Rangers ringtone went off. But he knew he missed his one and only opportunity with Quinn.

She walked over and rubbed his arm lightly. The feeling was actually really comforting and he didn't want her to stop. Unfortunately for him, she said, "Yeah, so you should get home before he gets crazier."

He sighed once more and responded, "You're right… Well… I had a lot of fun. Hope that was… helpful."

Never in an eternity would Mike have expected Quinn's response. She put her hands on his chest again, tip-toed and kissed him on the cheek. It was a light kiss and it took a couple seconds for his brain to register any information. She seemed to notice his delayed reaction because she was smirking. He felt his ears burn for the second time that day.

"Don't worry, it was really helpful. I really owe you one," she said and winked. "I'll see you on Monday."

With that she walked off stage, leaving Mike speechless. He didn't know how long he stood there, looking like an idiot. When he finally came to his senses, he started gathering his things. He took his mp3 player out of the speakers and walked backstage to grab his backpack. He slung it over his shoulder and headed toward the door. Before he reached the exit, he paused and stared at the stage. Everything that just happened on that stage felt like a dream. Yet, he still felt flushed from his dance with Quinn and that unexpected kiss. He touched his cheek as he exited the auditorium. Unfortunately, like most things involving girls, Mike had no idea what to do next.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **As always, I do not own any of the characters.

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait, Fabang fans! A huge thanks to my friend, "Angelina Johnson", for getting me to write this fanfiction in the first place! Check out her page, especially if you're a Ryley fan! :) Of course, thank you to my lovely readers for the reviews/follows! I hope you enjoy the next chapter~

* * *

**{Chapter Four}**

Quinn stood by the track with her hands on her hips, observing the other cheerleaders practice their cheers for the home game. Sue left her and Santana in charge today, which made her feel slightly annoyed. She had no idea why Santana was also given responsibility over the team, but she tried to brush it off.

Santana leaned over and murmured to Quinn, "These girls are a joke. Emily has no idea what she's doing. And she's not even a freshman!"

Quinn looked over and easily picked out the girl Santana spoke about. She was eyeing Brittany the entire time and was always a step behind. Unable to watch the mess, Quinn sighed and looked over her shoulder to look over at the football team as they did drills on the field. She scanned the boys and their jersey numbers. It wasn't long until she saw #22, who was also looking back at her. Mike smiled and gave her a small wave before joining the team in their duck walks. Quinn smiled back and was interrupted by Santana linking arms with her.

"So, what's the progress on Operation Twinkle Toes?" asked Santana, looking at the field and then back at her.

"I haven't kissed him yet," Quinn admitted, turning her attention back to the cheerleaders who were now practicing a routine they learned two weeks ago.

Santana laughed and sang, "Looks like I'm going to get to choose a song for you!"

Quinn looked at Santana and laughed, "No way. Give me one more week."

"Then make it more than just a make out session," Santana bargained, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Oh come on," she pleaded and shook her head. "I'm almost there. I gave him a kiss on the cheek on Friday."

"Oooh," Santana gushed sarcastically. "That is such a worthy goss-topic for McKinley. What should I do with that information? Post it on twitter? This just in: Head Cheerleader Turned Mother Teresa!"

Quinn rolled her eyes and didn't respond. She didn't owe it to Santana to tell her about what happened on Friday. Quinn could not have planned a sexier encounter between them. But to be honest, she didn't even plan for anything to happen on Friday. She lost one of her bangles during the week and recalled wearing it in the auditorium. She had no idea that Mike practiced alone every Friday, but it worked to her favor. His talent was unquestionable. Throughout the entire weekend, she continued to picture their bodies pressed against each other and their hips moving to the beat of the claves. Something about Mike changed when he started to dance. Suddenly his anxiety turned into confidence. His concentration while he danced was incredibly attractive. By the end of that song, he left her breathless. She would never admit it to anyone else, but she was so upset about his dorky ringtone killing the mood.

"Earth to Queen Celibacy," Santana said, waving her hand in front of Quinn's eyes. "What do you want to do with Emily? She keeps fucking up the routines."

"What?" Quinn returned her attention to Santana. "Tell her that she's on probation until she can learn the moves. She can't perform at tomorrow's game. Let's end practice."

When Santana walked towards the group to yell at them, Quinn noticed that the majority of the football team was already gone. She heard someone swear on the football field and saw Finn walking off the field, kicking a water bottle angrily. Quinn walked over toward Finn and Puck to find out what was going on.

"Hey Finn, are you okay?" she called out, walking over to the bench.

Finn looked up with a look of annoyance and pain before he responded, "I sprained my wrist so I can't play tomorrow."

"So who is taking your place?" Quinn asked as the rest of the team came over to grab their Gatorade bottles. Suddenly, she felt an arm around her waist and she was pulled into a sweaty embrace.

"I am," said Puck, grinning. "Looks like you get to be mine for a day."

Quinn scoffed and pushed him to get out of his grip, "And what gives you that idea?"

"Because I'm going to be quarterback. Isn't that like, a rule or something? Quarterback gets to mess around with the Head Cheerleader," said Puck nonchalantly.

"What?!" she yelled, taking a step back. "That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard."

Puck put his hands up defensively, "Hey babe, I didn't make the rules. I just follow them."

"Screw you, Puck," she said, placing her hands on her hips.

"So, come over to my place and then you can definitely screw me," Puck said, taking a step towards her.

"Dude, calm down," Finn said, standing up to stop Puck.

Puck shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Why? You said the same thing two weeks ago!"

Quinn glared at the both of them. She couldn't believe they could be such pigs. She felt disgusted as she shouted, "You two can fuck off!"

Quinn walked across the field towards the school and flicked them off. She was so angry that she felt her cheeks burning. It was rare that she was ever affected by anyone in this dimwitted school. She could usually brush it off by accepting the fact that everyone else was an idiot.

When she made it back inside the school, she went into an empty classroom to calm down. She really wanted to slap or yell at someone, but all of her cheerleaders left. For some reason, Puck's comments really hit her hard. She could not understand how he actually thought that she would put out for him just because he was temporarily the quarterback. She was not ignorant to her reputation, but sometimes it really bothered her how the truth was so warped. Quinn never slept with Finn, but it was obvious that Puck thought otherwise.

"Quinn?"

Quinn looked up and saw Mike, ducking his head into the classroom. He looked simultaneously confused and concerned as he asked, "Why are you sitting alone in the dark? You know the janitor closes up the school soon."

Quinn sighed, knowing that he probably had no idea what just happened on the field. Droplets of water fell from his hair, so she knew that he was probably in the locker room during her ludicrous and enraging encounter with Puck. He was innocent, but knowing he was on the football team made her feel slightly hesitant to respond. But then again, it was Mike Chang at the door.

"… Well, can I come in?" Mike asked awkwardly.

She nodded and finally responded to his seemingly incessant questions, "Yeah. It's just… Puck and Finn were being such assholes out there."

"What'd they do this time?" he inquired as he sat on the desk across from her. "Does this have anything to do with Finn messing up his wrist?"

"Precisely that," she responded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Those idiots. They were… I just…"

"Calm down," Mike interjected. "Tell it to me straight."

"Apparently they think that because I am Head Cheerleader, I just sleep around with whoever is the Quarterback of the team. No matter who it is," she said in disbelief. Quinn took in another deep breath, but found that even her breathing was shaky.

Mike bit his bottom lip and rubbed the back of his neck before he responded, "Oh, was that what it was?"

"Yes. What idiots would believe that?" she asked and slammed the desk behind her with her palms.

"Well," he paused and she could tell he was trying to find the right words to say.

"Oh Mike," she said and shook her head disapprovingly. "Not you, too."

"I mean, it's just that… That's how it was when we got here, you know, with Justin Kean and Michelle Taylor. So I just assumed that's how it worked," Mike admitted and looked genuinely confused. "And with all that locker room talk, it's hard not to believe the guys. But I never thought badly of you ever, I swear."

Quinn rolled her eyes, as she responded, "I can't believe this. That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard. Why would I do that to myself? Don't you think I'm better than that?"

"Hey," he said frantically. "I'm really sorry. I really am. I didn't really get to know you until the past couple of weeks. I don't know what else to say. But I don't think you would ever do that. Those… Those things with guys."

Since he sounded so sincere, she fought back the tears that were forming from her anger. Quinn walked over to the desk he was sitting on and hit him gently on the chest and said, "I know. But it's really disheartening to know that the entire football team thinks that way about me. I am a person, you know."

"I know," he replied and looked genuinely remorseful.

"I am not some bong that you hit and pass around to your buddies," she stated firmly. She wanted to make sure that he understood her perfectly. She was a human being. Even though she was genuinely upset that Mike would feel that way about her, a part of her felt guilty as she lectured the boy who was unknowingly part of her little bet with Santana and Brittany.

"On behalf of the boneheaded team that I am unfortunate to be a part of, I apologize," Mike said with a ridiculous smile and opened up his arms to invite her into a hug.

Quinn let her guilt quickly fade and laughed as she hit him once more. She accepted his invitation and he wrapped his arms around her. Since he was sitting on the desk and she was standing in front of him, her head fit perfectly on his shoulder. The position was comfortable, but she was facing away from him, so she turned her head to look at his neck. After a couple seconds, she hooked her arms around the back of his neck and stood up taller so that their cheeks were pressed against each other. Quinn felt the same way she did when they danced on Friday. With their bodies so close, her mind went into overdrive. She knew that she could end the bet in seconds. If she kissed him, she would win, but she would also lead Mike on. Now that she actually got to know him a little more, she actually felt guilty. Yet, instead of pulling back, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. The smell of his body wash and faint scent of grass made her feel lightheaded. She could feel his breath tickling her neck and suddenly the idea of the bet completely vanished from her mind. She just wanted him to kiss her.

Quinn felt Mike lean back slowly, the side of their faces still touching. Once he pulled back enough to look into her eyes, she could tell that he was nervous. It was sweet how he was taking it so slow, as if she would break under his touch. But she wasn't used to the snail-like pace. Not wanting to wait any longer, she closed her eyes and leaned in suddenly. She kissed him firmly, praying that he would kiss her back. It wasn't long until he answered her prayer and left her yearning for more. Most guys would take this as a green light to explore her body and tug on her clothes. Instead, Mike loosened his grip around her as if to let her have an exit. She could tell that he was holding back and the act was endearing, but frustrating.

Only seconds after she deepened the kiss, it was Mike who pulled back, looking heavy lidded and out of breath. The apologetic and confused expression on his face was adorable and she wanted to pull him back toward her. She was only getting started. However, it seemed obvious that she pushed him a little too far. She predicted that he was about to start one of his jittery rants again.

"I'm sorry," Mike whispered and leaned his forehead on hers.

She wasn't sure why he was apologizing, but she was shocked that he did not act as anxious as she expected. Quinn moved her arms from behind his neck and took a step back. She shook her head and said, "No need to be."

"Yeah, there is. You were just talking about how you're a person and not a bong and then we just made out, which doesn't make any sense because I apologized for guys being stupid and then I was stupid," he rambled and let go of her to rub his hands together. "I am really, really sorry."

Quinn laughed gently, amused that her prediction was still correct. She put a hand on his arm to calm him down and insisted, "Really, it's fine. Don't beat yourself up. Just walk me to my car, okay?"

"Really?" Mike said, looking up at her. His eyes vaguely reminded her of a puppy that she desperately wanted to take home.

"Yes," she asserted and laughed once more as she grabbed her backpack.

They walked in silence to her car. She didn't know what to say to him and she was fairly certain that if he opened his mouth, there would only be incoherent apologies. Her car beeped when she pressed the unlock button on her key fob. Like a gentleman, Mike opened the door of her car for her.

"Don't overthink this," Quinn said and kissed on the cheek. "Please."

"Got it," he said, giving her a lopsided grin.

Quinn closed the door and started her car. She knew that he would overthink it. She was already using all of her willpower not to overthink the situation herself. When Mike walked away, she began to pull out of her parking spot. She couldn't help but smile to herself and was afraid to pinpoint the source. However, her unreasonable happiness was interrupted by a text message. When she got to the next red light, Quinn took out her phone and opened her messages.

_That was cute. So you finally did it. What's the song?_

Quinn frowned at Santana's straightforward text. She wasn't sure whether Santana saw him walking to her car or actually caught them in the classroom. Either way, it irritated her that she did not even see Santana. Quinn finally won the bet. But for some reason, she found herself writing a response that did not make sense. Quinn couldn't decide why she wrote the message, but she did not waste another second to question herself. The traffic light turned green, so she immediately sent it to Santana. Once her phone confirmed that the text was sent, Quinn tossed her phone onto her passenger seat and accelerated across the intersection.

_Nope. Didn't do it. Give me another week._


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to Glee.

**Author's Note:** Sorry again for the delayed update. A huge thanks to my boyfriend for helping me write the actual football scene since I know absolutely nothing about the sport. x) Hope you all enjoy this chapter! :D

Thank you to UnholyWanky, littleredwritinggleek, Angelina Johnson, Delena1101 and all of my Fabang Guests (and anyone I may have accidentally forgotten) for the lovely reviews. It means a lot. :) Also, thanks to Alexagleek, Angelina Johnson, Biathlonfanatic, Galindafiied, NeverMessWithTeddyBears, Rosepine, andsoitis2, helloberry, julish10 & permanentmark for following my story. I truly appreciate it! :)

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**{Chapter Five}**

Mike was familiar with confusing situations.

When Mike was in preschool, he was confused when the other children did not understand his Cantonglish. One day he continuously asked a small Finn Hudson to, "gimme the aahm-sik crayon." Finn's lack of comprehension frustrated Mike, but he decided to take out the 'gimme' and used more polite words that he learned from his mom. After he tacked on a "please" and did not receive the blue crayon in return, Mike reached over and stole it out of his hand. Mike made Finn cry and had to stay after class for a parent-teacher meeting. Apparently he was speaking two languages and all of the other kids only knew one of them. Strange.

During middle school, Mike had his first crush on a girl and did not understand why it had to be so difficult. He didn't know exactly what he wanted from her. All he knew was that he would do anything for her if it meant that she smiled and whispered, "Thanks, Mike." All of her friends started talking to him to teach him the ins and outs of wooing a girl. Favorite flowers, throwing pebbles, picnics, and handwritten letters. At the same time, Puck took Mike under his wing to pay his debt for math lessons and explained all of the things that you could do with a girl. Sexually. Puck showed him porn, provided detailed accounts of his endeavors (in reality or his dreams) and told him about being safe because, "bros don't let bros get weird diseases and shit." Mike could not understand how there could be such a drastic discrepancy between the two genders' thoughts and opinions on love when all he wanted to do was see that girl smile.

Mike's final stage of bewilderment was the sudden imbalance is his passions. He used to find it thrilling enough to solve AP calculus problems as a freshman. The feeling of accomplishment used to sweep over him, especially since his parents prohibited calculators because, "real mathematicians didn't use machines." But this simple joy was replaced gradually with dance. He felt an adrenaline rush when he listened to the music and envisioned himself dancing. It hit him when he was walking down the street listening to "Man in the Mirror" by Michael Jackson and started moving to the beat. He closed his eyes and moved with the song and felt the wind accompany his limbs. When the song ended, he understood his true love for dancing. He felt excited, disappointed, relieved and scared. But most importantly, Mike felt confused.

So yes, confusion was no stranger to Mike. But his disorientation over language, sex or dancing felt incomparable to the confusion he was now experiencing over one petite, snarky cheerleader. In fact, the confusion was so strong that it had him tossing and turning in bed last night.

Mike was a rational person. He understood the world from a logical standpoint. However, Quinn Fabray was messing with his logic. She was the head cheerleader of McKinley High. In the words of his football teammates, she was a "stunna." Mike had to agree with them. Her eyes had those speckles of green and gray, which seemed to change depending on her mood. Her lips always looked soft. Her body was petite and toned from her experience as a cheerleader. She had an undeniable, timeless beauty that made Mike think that, yes, Quinn Fabray was a "stunna."

Mike was used to holding Quinn on a pedestal until the past week when she she crept into his life. Slowly, she inched her way in with biology homework. Then, dance practice. And finally, with her lips locked with his. Oh god, those lips. Locker room side comments did not prepare him for her. The guys talked about her her toned ass, but they never talked about how her breath on his neck would make his mouth completely dry. They failed to mention how soft and inviting her lips felt. They didn't even bother to explain that when she kisses someone, she takes full control and leaves her prey breathless.

The entire night was filled with Mike revisiting the memory of the two of them in that dark classroom. Logically, there was no explanation for why Quinn chose him to kiss. Prior to the past two weeks, he could count their encounters with his two hands. There was no reason for her to want anything to do with him. But suddenly, she was always around. She invaded his thoughts and interrupted his sleep. Take the previous night, for example. Mike only clocked in three and a half hours of sleep. This was not nearly enough to pay attention in class. It was definitely not enough to play well in today's football game.

"You look like hell, Chang. Don't tell me you didn't rest up properly for this game."

Coach Beiste's voice brought Mike back to reality. He looked around and realized that he was in the locker room getting ready for the game after school. He looked up at the coach and had no idea what to say without getting verbally attacked by the burly woman.

"I, uh," stammered Mike. "I did. Sort of."  
Coach Beiste rolled her eyes and sighed, "Get your energy back and pump yourself up. I'm not putting you in until the second half then."  
"Got it," Mike said, realizing that was his response to Quinn's command not to overthink.

_Too late_, he thought to himself.

Mike joined the rest of the team to stretch out his muscles. The bleachers were slowly filled by his fellow Titans, clad in red and black. He always thought it was strange that people still came to support their football team even though the guys on the football team were the reason for weekly slushie facials in the hallway. His thoughts were interrupted when the Cheerios walked by. Quinn and Santana were passing out bottles of Gatorade to the team while the other girls chatted with some of the guys. He expected Quinn to give him one, but found himself filled with disappointment, and yes, confusion, when she looked at him for a second and skipped over him. Santana tossed him a bottle, so he shot her a grateful smile for his Gatorade and retreated back into his own thoughts.

Mike sat on the bench during the first half of the game. To be honest, he was barely paying attention. He could not get over Quinn's inconsistency. First, she didn't know he was alive. Next, there was a weird phase where it seemed like she was always around. Then, she was in between his legs, pressing her body into his. And now, she was ignoring him. Girls were so ridiculous.

His attention was brought back during half time when the guys on the field rushed toward the bench. The score was 10-14. The Titans were losing. He heard Puck arguing with Coach Beiste to put Mike in the game. Puck's yells were soon overpowered by the cheerleading squad's halftime performance. Quinn was dead center of the group and smiled like her face would fall off if she didn't. Before he knew it, she skyrocketed into the air. For a second he felt nervous when she fell back with full trust in the cheerleaders under her. Mike thought it was a long and borderline mundane routine, but the crowd was enamored by their perfect faces and short skirts.

"Dude, you're in," Puck said and slapped Mike's knee. "Let's do this!"

Mike nodded and put on his helmet as he ran onto the field with the team. The first couple of plays, Mike felt like he was in a strange daze. His opposing defender was strong and quicker than what he was accustomed to. He couldn't get free, which started to bother him. After getting closer to the end zone, Puck looked over at Mike and as a signal to get ready.

As Puck got ready to take the snap at the line of scrimmage, Mike dug his cleats into the dirt. When the center hiked the ball, Mike took off and fought through the defender. The play was for him to curl after 10 yards. Within seconds, the ball spiraled towards him. As he ran, he wondered what Quinn would do if he scored a touchdown. Kiss him? Ignore him? Congratulate Puck? Lost in a simple thought, Mike took two steps too many and failed to turn around in time. He felt the ball bounce off his left shoulder.

"Fuck!"

Mike made another incoherent yell of frustration and slammed his own helmet as he lined up once more. It was his last chance and with such a skilled defender in front of him, he started to feel wary. Before he knew it, the next play had already started and Puck had the ball in his hands. This time, Mike was supposed to run a slant. He took seven steps and suddenly shifted his weight to the left. He headed closer to the red zone and looked over his shoulder. The ball was flying in his direction. Forcing Quinn out of his mind, Mike grasped the ball and sprinted. He was a mere yard away from the goal when he was suddenly tackled into the red zone. The next ten seconds were a blur. His entire body slammed against the floor as his arms protectively held the ball against his chest. Mike held up the ball and heard the crowd cheer along with the Cheerios' absurd rhymes. He knew Quinn would be in the center of the formation, but he didn't expect her to wear such a large grin.

As the crowd's liveliness subsided, Mike made his way back to the bench. He passed by the cheerleaders and felt his ears burn when they showered him with compliments. No matter how well he did in each game, Mike never got used to the attention after making a touchdown. The most embarrassing part was that he could actually feel his modesty fade and his ego burst. He put on a strained smile until Quinn was in his line of vision. A smirk was evident on her face, but she winked at him as he passed her. Awkwardness took over him as he tripped on nothing. He mentally cursed himself and ignored the expected giggles as he jogged to the bench.

"Good job, Chang," praised Coach Beiste. "I thought you were going to screw up, but you pulled through."

Mike looked up, squinting his eyes at her and replied, "Thanks, Coach."

Mike felt a sudden headache come over him as he tried to rehydrate. He figured it was due to a combination of lack of sleep, dehydration, his slam onto the field and Quinn's mixed signals. He could barely pay attention during the rest of the game because of the jabbing pain on the left side of his head. He closed his eyes to try and rid himself of the annoyance. He awoke from the thunderous sound of the metal bleachers and charged screams from the crowd. His blurry vision gradually cleared up when he looked up at the scoreboard. The game was over and they had won. Mike didn't understand how he could have slept for so long without being put in the game again.

"Coach, I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened," he apologized, realizing that she let him sleep.

"It's fine," Coach Beiste said and waved her hand dismissively. "Needed to see what Markey was made of anyway."

The team headed back to the bench and a lot of pats and manly hugs were shared. Their afternoon was concluded by a speech from Coach Beiste about how proud she was of the team, but how the score was too close for her liking. Everyone groaned, but they still had proud grins plastered on their faces. Eventually, the crowd in the bleachers slowly dispersed and the football team made their way back to the locker room.

Mike tried to shower quickly since he desperately wanted to sleep off the throbbing headache that irritated him. There were a couple congratulatory slaps on his bare ass, which would have made him laugh if he didn't feel so cranky. Eventually he finished getting ready and took out his phone. Mike slung his backpack over his shoulder as he checked his messages.

_Meet me under the bleachers after you're ready._

- _Q_

Mike wasn't sure why Quinn wanted to see him. He even tried to convince himself that he didn't really want to see her after her strange and inconsistent actions today, but he was a terrible liar. He always wanted to see her. Mike threw his towel in the basket and yelled goodbye to the guys that were still in the locker room. No one seemed to notice that he went out the wrong door.

"Quinn?"

Quinn stood in the shadows of the bleachers, no longer in her Cheerios outfit. Again, she wore one of those dresses that cinched at her waist that Mike could only call, "pretty and flowery." The remaining sunlight painted lines across her face, which gave her an air of mystery on top of the secrecy she always exuded.

"You came," she said and he was thrown off by the look of relief on her face. Surely, she wouldn't have been disappointed if he didn't come.

"Yeah, are you okay?" he asked, walking over to her. "Is something wrong?"

Mike felt her small hands on his cheeks before she brought him down immediately to meet her lips. She was kissing him again and this time she was possessive. Her arms snaked around his neck and he could feel her trying to get rid of any space between them. Mike was slow to respond, but as he kissed her back he felt his sharp headache lessen into a dull throb. He wasn't even sure if this was real or if he passed out on his way out of the locker room. When the taste of strawberry lingered on his tongue, he knew this had to be real. Mike came back to his senses, placed his hands on her hips and pushed her back a step. The look of confusion and embarrassment on her face was only a fraction of what he felt.

"W-wait," Mike whispered and closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

She chuckled and rubbed his arms, "Why are you sorry?"

"I don't know," he admitted nervously. "Just in case I did something wrong… What are we doing?"

"I'm kissing you," stated Quinn, looking at him as if there was nothing out of the ordinary with what she said.

"Yes, I can see that," Mike said and winced at the return of his headache. "But... Uh, why?"

Quinn paused for a second and reasoned, "Because I want to."

"I don't know if that's a good reason," he decided and searched her eyes to make sure she wasn't just joking with him. She seemed honest enough. "I mean, you were just ignoring me earlier, so I thought you, you know, didn't want anything to do with me."

She bit her bottom lip and he wished that she would stop doing that because he really wanted to bite her bottom lip instead. Mike instantly shook his head to try and erase that previous thought. Guilt forced him to focus on what was going on. It didn't make sense that she kissed him because she wanted to. She shouldn't want to kiss him at all. He was just Mike Chang.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to congratulate you on your touchdown, but I didn't want people to notice and start talking," Quinn admitted.

Mike was unsure how to accept this information. Was she embarrassed to talk to him in front of people because of his lowly state as the mere wide receiver on the football team? Or was she protecting him from the gossip that traveled so easily at McKinley High? And if this was her way of congratulating him, Mike should have tried harder to make touchdowns in the past.

"For your sake," she added. "It's just... You're really nice and I like you. But I don't want you to get tangled in all of the trash talking and the rumors and Finn's fist..."

Quinn continued to list things and Mike tried to listen. He knew that if he opened his mouth, he probably wouldn't be able to speak. He didn't understand where this was headed. Quinn Fabray just called him nice and said she liked him. Maybe he did faint as he exited the locker room. He tried to make sense of the words that were spilling from her perfect lips.

"So maybe I shouldn't have pinned you against the bleachers, but I wanted to get my point across," Quinn paused and looked at him as if she wanted to hear his opinion. When he didn't say anything, she filled the silence again by adding, "... which is that I like you. And I'd like to hang out with you."

Hang out. He could work with hanging out. Mike Chang was a pro at hanging out. Unless hanging out included making out. He was definitely not a pro at making out. But then again, he was pretty sure he couldn't say no to that either

"Yeah," he said breathlessly. "Sure. I mean, uh, we can hang out. We can hang out whenever you want."

"Great," she said and smiled at him.

It was in that moment that he decided that all he wanted to do was see her smile. It was as simple as it was when he was in middle school. The corner of her eyes did that wrinkle thing that made him sure that she was genuinely smiling. In fact, Mike could have sworn she looked relieved at his response, which would be incredibly uncharacteristic of the Queen Bee. But then again, his brain did feel like it was melting.

"Let's get you home," Quinn said, interrupting his inner monologue.

Mike squeezed his eyes shut for a second and shook his head, "W-what? Why? I'm fine."

"You look like a demon is going to burst out of your eyes," she said plainly and linked her arm around his as she led them away from the bleachers.

Mike looked down at her and decided that it felt nice having her on his arm. She stayed connected to him until they made it to the parking lot. The only remaining cars were their own. The second he tried to understand what was going on between them, his headache worsened. Mike figured this was God's way of telling him not to overthink. When she said goodbye, he felt warmth creep into his cheeks.

"Let's hang out tomorrow after school," Quinn called out and entered her car.

As Quinn drove away, Mike had never felt more perplexed in his life. Yet this time, he gladly accepted the confusion.


End file.
